


Not Under My Heart, But In It

by QueenMaria



Series: Grey-Dawn [8]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Hearthfire DLC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 16:24:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenMaria/pseuds/QueenMaria
Summary: Whiterun is home to many of Skyrim's citizens. One in particular is very familiar with the war damaged benches around the square. It's the best place to beg for coins.





	1. Horker Stew and Milk

**Author's Note:**

> AN: NEW FIC! From the perspective of Whiterun’s saddest and most adorable Imperial.

The worn wood of the bench was moist now by the sun’s light, leaving what had been frost a wet sheen across the surface.  She wasn’t sure what was better: the chilly flakes that would cling to her skin, or the wet drops that sank into her clothes and left them damp.  Her fingers were chilled, and she wanted to go stand next to the grates near the yelling priest, but he always made her feel so uncomfortable.  Her head was aching a little, but she didn’t know if it was from the cold or her angry stomach.

"Hello, little one."

  
Lucia's head snapped up, body flinching into the wood as she stared into the face of a stranger.  Her dark hair was messily pulled away from her face, the long locks along her neck obscuring her features as she stood against the sunlight.  "I always seem to see you here when I pass through town." The woman tilted her head as she regarded her.

  
"Lady," Lucia began as always, praying this would be a kind one, "could you spare a coin?"

  
"Why are you always here begging?" The tall woman asked, placing her left hand on her hip behind a sheathed sword.  She flipped her hair out of her face with a toss of her head, and Lucia recognized her as the sunlight caught her.  The woman had given her a few coins weeks before.  It had been enough to buy a loaf of bread that she’d made last three days. Brenuin had stressed over and over how important it was to make her food last.

  
Lucia licked her lips nervously, her mouth dry as the woman said nothing and waited for a reply.

  
"It's... it's what Brenuin said I should do," Lucia began tentatively. "He's the only one that's been nice to me since... since Mama...Since she died." Her throat closed up, the breath stuttering in her throat."My aunt and uncle took over our farm and threw me out. Said I wasn't good for anything. I wound up here, but... I-I don't know what to do. I miss her so much..."

  
She scrubbed her eyes, trying not to get any more dirt on her face.

  
"What do you- They just tossed you out? Without anything?"

  
Lucia looked up, flinching at the woman's outraged and incredulous tone.  "Y-yes, ma'am." Maybe she shouldn't have told her. Maybe she wasn't supposed to talk about that. Brenuin hadn't said not to tell people; he'd just said to ask for a coin or two-

  
"When's the last time you ate?"

  
Lucia blinked, mouth working for a few seconds while she thought about the question. "Um, um, yesterday. Ma'am. I bought an apple from the lady's stall for breakfast." It had been her last coins, too. No one had given her any yesterday or today. And her stomach knew it if the growls it had been making all day were any indication. She'd picked the biggest apple in the bunch, and had eaten half for breakfast and half for dinner. But it hadn't done much to stop her belly from aching, and it had only gotten worse since she skipped breakfast today.

  
"You haven't eaten since yesterday morning?" The tall woman sounded upset; her bag shifting around on her shoulders.

  
"Well, I ate half the apple for dinner-"  
The woman pulled the enormous and stuffed satchel across her shoulders, setting it down on the bench next to Lucia with a thump. Lucia flinched again, shuffling down the seat until she hit the side to give this increasingly odd woman more room. She peeked a little as the woman rummaged in the top layer of things, sounds echoing from the bag like metal being knocked together. After a few moments and some tugging, the lady brought out a handful of coins.

  
"Here," she said calmly, holding out the pile to tip into Lucia’s hands. "You can have this for now, okay?"

  
Lucia gaped at the pile in her hands.  Six gold.  It was enough to buy another apple _and_ a jug of milk if the lady at the stall had any.  She hadn’t had any milk for over a week because it wasn’t easy to save it.

  
"We'll see about more later. I have to go see the Jarl about-" The woman broke off, seeing that Lucia was watching her with wide eyes. She was going to see the Jarl? Mama had said only the nobles and special people who lived in the big houses got to do that.  "Well, it doesn't matter. But eat a nice breakfast, alright? But you don't have to eat it if you start to feel sick." The woman spoke quickly, shifting her bag back onto her shoulders and seeming flustered.

  
Lucia swallowed reflexively a few times as she stared at the woman, rising slowly off the bench. "Thanks. Thanks so much." Remembering what she'd said about the Jarl, Lucia lower her head as she stood up to curtsy, like Mama said she should do. "Divines bless your kind heart, m'lady."

“Don’t worry about that,” the lady waved her hand. “I’ll be back soon, alright?”

Lucia nodded tentatively, clutching the coins close to her chest.  “Okay, m’lady.”  The woman nodded back before turning away and heading toward the castle steps, jogging up them with a practiced pace.

The little girl stepped quickly down the steps back to the market, rushing toward the stand with Mila and her mother.  She was breathing a little heavily as she came to the front of the stall, knuckles white around the shiny gold.

“I’d like a red apple and a jug of milk, please!” Lucia couldn’t keep the smile off her face when she held out all the coins, dumping them quickly onto the wooden stand.

The market woman didn’t say much, handing her the food with a small smile and a stop by again sometime.  Lucia grinned happy before running back to the stairs.  The apple was missing a large bite before she’d even sat down again.  She could almost feel her empty stomach lurching forward to get to the food faster.

If the woman really did come back later, Lucia wondered if she’d bring her enough coins to buy another loaf of bread.  That would be enough to last her until the end of the week.

* * *

 

The sun had risen much higher in the sky over the square when the tall woman appeared again.  Lucia had shifted to a different bench so that she could stay in the sunlight and keep warm.  Her back was to the loud priest, but he’d stopped talking long enough for Lucia to dry the front of her clothes near the grate.  She was lucky it hadn’t started snowing.  Brenuin liked to remind her that she was really lucky she hadn’t been homeless during the worst of winter.  Now at least the streets and benches weren’t covered with ice.

“Hello,” the woman said from Lucia’s right, making her whip her head around.  She must have made some sort of noise, because the woman held out her hands and stepped fully in front of her.  “I’m sorry, sorry.  I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Lucia shook her head, bring her hands into her lap and clasping her fingers together.  “It’s alright, M’Lady.  You didn’t.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.  There were a few people I needed to speak with in the palace, and then it all just-.”  Lucia blinked, swallowing slightly when the woman paused.  “It doesn’t matter,” she sighed.  “But it’s time for lunch now, don’t you think?”  She smiled, and Lucia thought it looked sweet.

“If- I don’t- um,” Lucia bit her lip and looked down, kicking her legs out from the bench.  She did want to eat again.  But was she allowed to ask for more food from the same lady in one day?

  
A pale hand appeared not far from her knees.  
"Would you come have lunch with me?"

  
Nervousness shot up Lucia's back. It made her skin feel cold and pebbled with goosebumps.  She hunched back against the wooden bench, her spine digging into the hardwood.  “I’m, I’m not, uh, I’m not supposed to go anywhere with strangers.”  Mama had always told her that.  She wasn’t really supposed to talk to strangers either, but Lucia had no choice but to talk to strangers every day when she begged, because that’s what Brenuin said she was supposed to do.  But even Brenuin had said never go anywhere with someone she didn’t know.

The loud rumble of her stomach made Lucia’s face go red.

  
The woman looked sad. She bent her knees and knelt in front of Lucia, leaving their eyes nearly level.  Her eyebrows were slanted the way Mama’s had been when she told Lucia she was sick.

  
'Don't be afraid." She answered softly. "I just want to get you some food from the inn. Maybe a hot bowl of stew?"

  
Once again, Lucia wasn't at all sure how to respond. No one had done this before. They'd always just tossed her a coin,  maybe even two, or avoided looking at her while they went past.

  
"I-" Lucia swallowed reflexively. "I can't, ma'am. I don't have any coins to buy a bowl."  
"That's alright," The woman smiled that sad smile again. "I'm going to buy a bowl for myself, and while I'm there why don’t I grab one for you, too?"

Lucia felt her lips twitch, her confusion and uncertainty making her fidget on the bench.  She wanted a bowl of stew, one that was warm and full of chicken like Mama used to make.

“I’m not supposed to go off with strangers,” she mumbled.  Fat, salty tears bloomed in her eyes and she huffed in frustration.  What was she supposed to do now?  Her stomach was starting to growl, and her head was starting to hurt again.

“How about I bring you something here, then?”

A few tears squeezed out of Lucia’s eyes when she blinked rapidly in surprise, pressing her lips into a thin line.  Was it okay to take food from strangers?  Brenuin hadn’t said anything about that.  She thought Mama might have told her not to, that it wasn’t safe to trust people she didn’t know when Mama wasn’t around.

But Mama was _ever_ around anymore and she was _hungry_ and the lady was being so _nice_ -

“Please, please don’t cry.” The woman ran a hand back through her hair, brushing the dark strands from her face.  “It’s alright.  I don’t want to upset you.”  

“I’m-” Lucia hiccupped slightly and wanted to cry harder for making the nice woman think she wasn’t thankful.

The woman rose to her full height again, taking a step back from Lucia and her bench.  “Here’s what we’ll do,” she said softly, pulling the leather satchel from her back again.  Lucia tilted her head a bit, reaching up to wipe her tears on the dress of her arm.  The sleeve was dirty, and felt scratchy against her face. Only a month ago it had been a pretty green, and soft.

Something jingled past her arm, and she blinked her eyes open again.

The woman was holding a small coin purse in her hands.

“There’s twelve gold in here.  You can take it right to Hulda at the counter and order yourself some stew.”  The woman crouched next to her again.  “It’s up to you whether you want to go use it now.  I’ll be in the inn for lunch though, and you’re welcome to come sit with me.”  The woman still kept up her half smile.  “My name is Aneira, okay?”  She held out her hand.  “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Lucia swallowed dryly again, cupping the purse in her left hand while reaching out with her right.

“My name is Lucia, m’lady.”

* * *

 

Hulda, the older woman who was at the counter in the Inn, looked at her strangely when she brought up the coin purse onto the counter.  She poured out the coins and counted them before asking Lucia where she’d gotten them all.

“From Aneira, ma’am.”  Lucia turned around and pointed at her, sitting at a table near the stairs.  “She said I could use it to buy stew.”  Aneira waived lightly from the table, already preparing the loaf of bread she’d taken for them.

Hulda looked over into the corner, lips pursed slightly before nodding and taking away most of the coins.

“Bowl’s only eight coins.  You gave me twelve.”

“Can I have milk, too?”  Lucia bounced nervously on the balls of her feet, practically tasting her lunch already even though Aneira said it was important to eat it slowly.

“Aye,” Hulda’s lip curled up on one side.  “You’re a good girl, asking for milk.”

“Thank you,” Lucia blushed, reaching up to run a hand over her cheek.

Aneira had carved the bread by the time Lucia returned with her milk, and she handed her a small piece when she sat down.

“Dip it in your milk.  That softens it up.”

“Mhmm,” Lucia smiled, dunking the chunk into the mug.  She uncrossed her legs under the table, kicking lightly.  Lucis had followed Aneira at a distance to the Inn until they were both inside.  Now that they were sitting alone at the table, she hardly knew what was okay to say.

“Hulda said that it was horker stew today.  I’ve never eaten horker in a stew before.” Aneira tossed a piece of bread into her own mouth, swallowing it down with the water she was drinking.  Lucia watched it through her bangs, thinking it was a little funny.  Everyone else was drinking mead or wine.  Aneira quirked an eyebrow at her.  “Have you ever eaten horker in stew?”

“Um, no,” Lucia wondered, picking apart her bread into even tinier pieces.  “I- I don’t think I’ve ever seen a horker, m’lady.”

Aneira paused with her drink at her lips, looking the way adults did when they were thinking hard.

“No, I guess you wouldn’t have.”  Aneira spun her small dinner knife in her fingers, making the metal flicker with firelight.  “Do you know what they are?”

“I think Mama said they were like big, fat cows, except they lived in the water.”

Aneira laughed around her bottle, reaching up to wipe her lip where the water had flowed over.  “Not too far off.  They certainly are fat things.  But they don’t give us things like milk, as cows do.”

“Do they really live in the water?”  Lucia asked carefully, watching as Aneira swiped a bit of butter across her bread.

“Well, in a manner of speaking.  They swim in the sea and eat fish and other creatures that live in the water.  But horkers can’t breathe underwater, so they sleep on land.”  Aneira handed Lucia the butter.  Smiling, she took it to spread over her broken slice.  “But they also have large tusks on their heads.  Our cows don’t have things like _that_.”

“Like a mammoth?” Lucia asked, glancing away hopefully when the Redguard woman brought two large bowls from the back.

Aneira blinked at her as the bowls were set down, nodding briefly at the serving woman before turning to Lucia again.

“Well,” she began. “Much smaller.”

Stirring her stew briefly, Lucia smiles happily as Aneira talked about what a horker looked like, and why no, it probably wasn't something her Aunt and Uncle would keep on Mama’s farm.

* * *

 

Lucia slept inside the inn that night, so warm and cozy in a straw bed that her body almost couldn't fall asleep for the change from the dirt outdoors.

Aneira had insisted on paying for it, claiming it was only right to thank Lucia for having lunch with her.  That hadn't made much sense to Lucia, since Aneira had paid for her lunch _and_ left her coins to buy dinner.

Aneira had even apologized that she couldn't stay for dinner. She'd said that she still had business around Whiterun, and wanted to speak to the Jarl once more. But Aneira had given her word that she would return to have breakfast with her the next day.

Lucia wasn't sure what all that meant.  She knew she had a stomach filled with stew, and a soft pillow to lay her head on.  Whatever came after that hardly mattered.


	2. The ABCs of Adventuring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kolb can be an unlucky adventurer.

“You're quite far along already,” Aneira commented, shifting the book so that she could turn the page.  “You're a very smart girl, Lucia.”

“Just because Mama taught me a little,” Lucia admitted shyly, blushing at the praise. “She always said reading was very important, and I had to trust what I was reading with my own eyes so I could run the farm well.”

Aneira’s mouth did that weird little twist it always did when Lucia mentioned Mama’s farm, like she was upset about something but didn't want to say. Lucia wasn't sure if it was because she didn't like Lucia talking about it, or if the trip she'd taken out to the farm a few weeks ago had made her unhappy.

All Lucia knew was that Aneira had come back with a bunch of Lucia’s dresses from her house, as well as a really big sack of money that Aneira assured her was to be Lucia's when she came of age.

“For now,” Aneira had explained, bending low to look Lucia in the eye, “it will stay in the palace bank, and collect a little interest for you until you're sixteen.”

Lucia hadn't known what all that meant, or how the money was her “inheritance” since her uncle had said everything was his now, or why Aneira had had to go visit her aunt and uncle at all.  It seemed to Lucia that, as much as she missed her Mama, she didn't need the farm anymore.  Aneira’s house was awfully nice, and they grew a few vegetables in the back.

But Lucia had been happy to have her dresses back. Mama had made them, and had sewn in little L’s on the front sleeves.

“Well,” Aneira began again, smoothing out the page, "you'll be reading all the books on my shelves in no time.”  Aneira's hand squeezed Lucia's shoulder, crammed as they were on Lucia's single bed.  They'd tried doing storytime in Aneira's big bed, but Lucia always fell asleep and then woke up again being carried down the steps.  “How about this page?”

Lucia wet her mouth with the tankard of water before beginning slowly. “Kolb stepped onto a rocky hill. He could see the dragon sleeping below, and a tahv- _ tavern  _ off a road nearby.” Licia shifted a little to look at the options. “So now we can ‘climb down,’ or ‘visit tavern.’”

Aneira hummed, leaning closer. “Well, you're the leader. Better pick.”

“But we're supposed to be slaying the dragon,” Lucia frowned at the page before looking at Aneira.  “Why would we go to a smelly old tavern?”

Laughing just hard enough that it shook Lucia from Aneira's arm around her shoulders, her dark haired friend nodded her head. “That's a good question. It's probably best to finish your quest before going to any taverns.  Do you want to turn to page sixteen, then?”

“Yes, Lucia said decisively. “Vilkas says I can't go into taverns alone because they're dangerous, and sometimes warriors like to start fights in them.” Lucia pursed her lips while hastily flipping the pages. “Kolb shouldn't start any fights. He's supposed to kill the dragon.”

“Very wise of you, Lucia.”

Sighing happily, Lucia settled back against Aneira's right side.  “Okay, now it says, ‘Kolb found the l-l-air where the dragon slept, ten-drils, tendrils?’” Aneira nodded with a smile. “‘Tendrils of smoke w-wa-fuh-ting,’” Lucia stammered, brow creasing. “What does that word mean? Wafuhting? And tendrils?”

“Wafting,” Aneira said clearly. She pointed to the bedroom door.  “It means traveling through the air, like the smells and smoke do at the cooking pot. Tendrils is what the smoke does.  You know, the way it curls up in different places. Like a plant?”

“Oh,” Lucia said slowly, moving her finger back to the sentence. “‘Wafting from its nose-trils.' Nostrils. 'The air made Kolb's eyes sting, and he nearly sl-lipped on the buh-bones of men, picked clean.’ Ew!” Lucia exclaimed, brow wrinkling in disgust.  “He, he's walking over dead people!” 

Aneira frowned, mouth twisting again.  “It would seem he is.  Do you want to keep going?” The question was softly spoken, and Lucia almost said no.  But this was the third day in a row that she'd tried to get Kolb to defeat the dragon, and this was the closest she'd ever gotten!

The candle in the room was already growing short and dim, so there was no chance of picking out a different story, either.  She'd have to tough it out.

“No, no I wanna finish,” Lucia said resolutely, straightening her back so that their shoulders were almost level. “‘The beast lay on its side, the throat and belly both waiting tah, tayr, tar-gets!’” Lucia smiled triumphantly, adjusting her grip on the pages. “‘Strike the Neck,’ or ‘Strike the Belly.’”

Turning to look Aneira in the eye, Lucia pointed to the options.  “You've slain dragons in  _ real  _ life, right, Aneira?” Without waiting for the answer, since Lucia was certain that being a “Dragonborn” meant fighting dragons, she pressed on. “Should we attack the belly or the neck?”

Her lips quirked to the side this time, and Aneira looked deep in thought. “Ah, well, I usually don't get to walk right up to a sleeping dragon,” Aneira laughed a little ruefully. “So I'm not sure. Usually the bellies are a good target, though. They're softer, you see, so spells and arrows hurt more.”

“Okay, let's attack the belly, then.” Turning hurriedly to page eleven, Lucia swallowed the last of her water before beginning. Surely this would be the last page, and she’d finally win.   “‘Kolb cre-puh-t towards the belly of the beast, but no son-sooner had he taken his eyes off the head of the beast than it snaped,’” Lucia frowned, focusing on the word with growing agitation.  This didn't sound like a good ending, either! “‘Snapped him up and ate him whole, axe and all!’” Lucia paused for a moment before groaning. “Aw! Aneira!”

Her companion had slapped the palm of her hand against her forehead, shaking with her mirth.

“Aneira, we died  _ again! _ ” Lucia thumped the book despairingly against the bed, bending over it as frustrated tears collected in her eyes.  “This book is so  _ hard. _ ”

“Oh, honey,” Aneira's hand moved to her back, patting lightly, “it's about your reading, right? Not winning. And you've gotten so much better even in the few weeks since we started.” Giving Lucia's back a final tap, she continued. “This book just likes to be unexpected. You've read it so well that the words are coming to you easily now.”

“Okay,” morosely, Lucia sat back up to let Aneira take the book and put it back on the shelf. “And we'll have to remember the right answers for tomorrow night. We'll have to strike the neck, instead of the belly.” Lucia almost huffed. “But that'll put us even closer to the mouth. Kolb will just get eaten again.”

Humming again, Aneira pulled up the blanket so Lucia could burrow deeper into the bed.

“Well, maybe. But how would you slay the dragon?”

Pulling an arm out from under the covers, Lucia pointed at the longbow hanging by a nail on her wall. “I'd use my bow. Aela says bows are the best weapon. And that way I can keep my distance and don't have to get near the mouth.”

Aneira’s smile was small and approving. “A very sound strategy, little one.” Bending down, she placed a kiss on Lucia's forehead. “I'm sure someday you'll prove yourself in person, and not just with Kolb.”

“I don't know,” Lucia murmured, turning her head into the pillow while Aneira blew out a candle. “I don't think I'd be a very good adventurer.”

“Why not?” Aneira glanced back at her, blowing out the second candle.

“I'm just not good at anything like that.” Lucia looked away, fingers curling in the pillow. “I'm not strong, or quick.”

_ You can't even feed the chickens and cows fast enough! Let alone help with the crops and harvest. _

_ You're eating too much again, Lucia. _

_ Gods above, girl, how long does it take to water a row of cabbages? _

_ We can't keep you any longer. _

_ You're not good for anything. _

_ We can't afford another mouth to feed. _

“Well, no one is gifted without training,” Aneira noted from the door, breaking into Lucia's sleepy thoughts. “Not even the Companions or Farengar were  _ born _ skilled.”

Biting her lip a little, Lucia let her eyes close. “If you say so.”

“You weren't born able to read, right?” Aneira asked, still standing in the doorway. “It took practice. Just like everything else. If you want to be anything, Lucia, you'll have to work hard at it. As with how well you've done with reading.”

“Okay,” Lucia said, listening to Aneira’s fading footsteps as she let herself drift off to sleep.

* * *

 

“It would be good for her, to get the feel for it young.” Aela mused, ripping off a piece of chicken to add to her plate. “Have you already gone over the basics with her?”

“Aye. I brought back a decent longbow from,” Aneira pursed her lips, “well, one fort or another.” Aneira waved her hand dismissively. “She understands how to use it.  I’d just appreciate training her with a master.”

“Resorting to flattery already,” Aela hummed and took a long pull of mead. “You must really want this for her.”

“More like I want her to want this for her.” Aneira tossed a chunk of eidar cheese into her mouth. “She's still hurts inside from the cruelty of that awful man and woman.” The Dragonborn picked up a half loaf of bread to rip apart. “I wish I'd given them more than just a shakedown.”

“Killing them outright would have been a  _ crime _ , Champion of the People.” Aela said mildly, pointing her table knife at her while Aneira huffed.  “And besides leaving them crippled or dead, there wasn't much else to be done.” Aela speared a piece of chicken.  “Given how much you said you took to deposit into an account for her, I'm sure their prolonged poverty will be a constant reminder of the error of their ways.”

Aneira folded her lips briefly, swirling the wine in her goblet.  “I did give him a good black eye.” Aela snorted, raising her mead tankard to toast it in her direction. “He fully deserved it. Calling her a worthless freeloader. Insisting her mother was only his half sister and so he didn't owe Lucia anything. How does that even make sense? The farm was a family farm that Lucia rightfully inherited-”

“It's no use trying to understand the justifications of the greedy and wicked,” Aela interrupted with a wave of her hand. “Don't go kindling your anger with it again, Sister.”

Aneira held up both hands palms out, leaning back in her chair. “Anyway, that's why I'd like your help in this. She seems to like archery well enough, and,” Aneira quirked her eyebrow in Aela’s direction, “she’s already quite taken with you. With the Companions, it's true, but you in particular. She's already parroting your wisdom back at me.”

Aela lifted her chin, smirking. “A smart girl.”

“I agree. So, will you do it? I'll pay the training fee for beginners, so you won't lose out on the time. A few times a week would be the most I ask.” Aneira slid the next bottle of mead over the table toward her fiery-haired friend.

“Of course,” Aela nodded, resting a hand on Aneira’s right shoulder. “It would be my honor to train the Dragonborn’s daughter. And I might have been deeply offended had you sought out someone else. Shield-Siblings support each other.”

Smiling warmly, Aneira cover Aela’s hand with her own. “Thank you, Sister. I'll talk to her about it tomorrow. Please don't be insulted if she is hesitant at first, though.”

“If she did not weigh and consider her choices in her mind, I'd doubt her conviction, anyway.” Aela passed the bowl of stew toward Aneira. “Now am I eating alone or with you?”

Chuckling a little, Aneira accepted the food now that her anxiety was lessened just a little.

* * *

 

The training ground was wide behind the upside down boat house, and looked out over the plains for miles.

Lucia wondered if Mama’s farm was in that direction, but only dimly in the back of her head.

What held her attention was the straw dummy against the stone wall with a big red circle on its chest, and Aela's hands helping to position her body correctly.

“That's right, now keep your arm steady on the bow. Don't loosen your grip just because you're pulling the string back.” Aela paused, resting her fingers against Lucia's on the grip. “Move your fingers just a- very good. That's the proper stance.”

Lucia inhaled carefully, trying to imagine the arrow between her fingers as she let it fly toward the target.

“We'll use training arrows to start. The tips are dulled, so less chance that we'll really hurt anyone. Once you've proven yourself, we'll move onto sharpened iron.”

Aela pat her shoulder before moving away to the basket, and Lucia lowered her longbow.

Three lessons a week, an hour per lesson. That's what Aneira and Aela had promised. At least when Aela didn't have to take a mission. And it would continue as long as Lucia wanted. Until she was a master, Aneira had reassured her.

Waiting for Aela to return, she lifted the bow again, seeing in her mindseye a hill, and at the bottom a sleeping dragon.

“Aim for the belly,” Lucia whispered, softly enough that the wind carried it away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos from the first chapter!
> 
> And, I defy anyone to get through Kolb and the Dragon on their first try. That choose-your-own-adventure book is ridiculous.


	3. Recipes for Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucia meets other children her own age, and tries not to let one bad apple spoil the bunch.

Braith didn't like her much at all.  She didn't seem to like anybody much, though, even Mila and Lars. Folding her arms and standing with a glare on her face, Braith liked to look and be cruel to everyone around her.

“What are you looking at?” Lucia watched with wide eyes as Braith looked up at Aneira, little fists clenched at her sides.  “I don’t care if you’re the Dragonborn.  I’m not afraid of you.”

Biting her lip in worry, Lucia saw Aneira raise her eyebrows.

“My, my.”

She said nothing else.  Her guardian looked at her, and Lucia swallowed nervously.  Was she going to be in trouble for the way Braith acted?  Did Aneira think _she_ spoke to her elders like that?

“I’ll be home for a few days now, Lucia.  We’re having a guest stay with us, as well.  Come home in time for dinner, alright?”  Aneira had gestured to a woman some ways behind her, wearing a black hood and beautiful magenta dress and black corset.  She looked like a princess, but Lucia couldn’t see much of her face.

She hoped Braith hadn’t upset her adoptive mother or embarrassed her in front of their new guest.

“Yes, Mama.  I’ll be home in time to help you and Lydia.”

Aneira smiled more warmly, reaching out to stroke her hand over Lucia’s head.  The young girl smiled in relief, holding onto the Dragonborn’s hand for a second before letting her walk away with her newest companion.  The cloaked lady hurried past, giving Lucia little more than a glance before following Aneira past the market.

“You’re just a big baby.”

Brows furrowed, Lucia looked back at Braith.  The Redguard girl stood behind her, arms crossed across her chest and lip curled in distaste.

“No, I’m not,” Lucia denied, walking past her playmate to head back to marketplace.  She was supposed to be looking for Lars and Mila, since she found Braith hiding near the main gate.

“Yeah, you are,” Braith teased back, following close behind when Lucia went past the alchemy shop.  “You’re just a sad little baby and a Mama’s girl.”

“No, I’m not. You’re just _mean_.”

_There_.  Mila was hiding behind Ysolda’s house.  She just had to sneak up behind her and-

She gave a low grunt of pain as her hands skidded on the ground. The rocks in the grass dug into Lucia’s palm, not rough enough to make her bleed, but hard enough to leave little tears in her skin. Her knees hit the ground hard enough that dirt and grass stains marred her blue skirt when she turned over to sit on her bum.

Tears burned in her eyes as Lucia looked at her hands, bits of grass and dirt clinging to the new indents in her skin.  They stung when she wiped them against her skirt, trying in vain to stem the new soreness.

“See? You’re just a big cry baby.  Now you’re gonna run off and cry to your fake mama.” Braith was bent over at the waist, hands resting on her knees while she taunted the younger Imperial.

“You _pushed_ me!” Lucia cried in outrage, stumbling clumsily to her feet again.  The tears slipped onto her cheeks and she wiped them hastily with her sleeves.

“So? I can do whatever I want.  You’re not the boss of me.” Braith walked past, a bounce in her step as she approached where Mila was still crouching.

Lucia watched her leave, mouth gaping and trembling at the unfairness of it all.  The world around her seemed sharper, the colors brightened slightly by her personal fury.

Braith stuck her fingers into Mila’s sides, causing the other Imperial girl to jump with a shriek.  She laughed off Braith’s attempts to tickle her, lamenting that she was already found.  The two girls giggled together before Braith darted away from Mila’s hands, teasing the other girl that she wouldn’t be able to catch her.

Folding her lips together, Lucia turned away to head back to Breezehome through the market.  Her face felt puffy, and she worried everyone would be able to see she’d been crying.  She’d rather wash up now and help Lydia prepare for dinner than stay and let Braith make fun of her in front of the whole city.

* * *

 

_Mila had been her first friend because she, as luck would have it, liked to read as well._

_Her mother was always working at the fruit stand, so Mila had to help her put away the fruits and vegetables into straw baskets at the end of the day. But from morning until evening, Lucia had always seen her running with the other children through the streets, playing tag or hide and seek. She hadn't asked Lucia if she'd wanted to play back then, but that wasn't what Lucia remembered about her now._

_“We can play princesses and Jarls. Or mages!”  Mila tucked a strand of dark hair back behind her ear, setting her doll in front of her lap.  Lucia adjusted her doll’s hair, frowning at the frayed strings._

_“Do you wanna play that we’re the Jarls in Dragonsreach?  We could play feast day.”  The child’s-sized tankards and tiny plates were already set up on Lucia’s chest, left from her hurried cleanup before she was scolded for leaving her toys on the floor._

_“But there’s only one Jarl, Lucia.” Mila helped the other Imperial girl set up the play plates.  “So one of us has to be someone else.”_

_Lucia thought on that, trying to think if she’d ever read anything about more than one Jarl ruling a hold.  Nothing came to mind.  “I can be a visiting Jarl,” she said matter-of-factly, setting the doll in front of her small tankard.  “I’m visiting to celebrate a feast day in Whiterun with you.”_

_Mila was fine with that set up, her doll happily welcoming Lucia’s to the capital._

_This brunette girl now filled Lucia’s head with memories like this; playing with their dolls, reading together from Lucia’s new books, or even showing Mila the longbow and how she had improved in archery._

_Mila’s dark eyes would widen and her mouth open in smiles at Lucia's stories from Jorrvaskr, asking questions about the Companions and the Dragonborn and whether it was true that Aneira brought home dragon meat for dinner.  Her caretaker hadn’t, but Lucia had shown Mila the dragonbones in one of the chests upstairs, much to the other girl’s delight and awe._

_Some days, Mila would show Lucia how to cook her fruits and vegetables under Lydia’s watchful eyes.  Now both girls could make applesauce to share with Aneira and Mila’s mother at the end of the day, and Lydia had promised to show them how to prepare venison steak with carrots and lettuce next time they wanted to cook together._

_On other days, the Imperial girl came to Breezehome downcast, eyes and cheeks red, and it was always about her mother and their food stall; more fruit and vegetables had rotted without anyone buying them, or another man was rude to her mother. The former is a bigger problem in Lucia’s opinion, because she understood very well how bad it could be to waste food or need more coins at the end of the day. And honestly, she didn’t have any idea why some men were so unpleasant to Miss Carlotta. Even when Lucia was homeless, the vendor had always been nice._

_Regardless of the type of day, Mila loved to sit on Lucia’s bed and read books with her. Carlotta tried to do story time with Mila before bed, just as Aneira did, and so Mila was even farther along in her words than Lucia. The other Imperial helped Lucia sound out all the tricky words in A Children’s Anuad, so now she could read most of it with Aneira and ask what the words all meant.  And even though she could read better, Mila had had just as much trouble with Kolb as Lucia, so maybe Aneira was telling the truth about that book being tricky._

_And when the days grew warm enough that Lucia didn't mind going outside, Mila came to knock loudly on her door and ask Lydia if Lucia could come out to play._

_“Lars and Braith are already at the Gildergreen.  We’re gonna play tag.  Are you gonna come with us?”_

_That was how Lucia came to have a group of children to play with, instead of only one._

* * *

 

“It’s alright,” Aneira soothed her, letting Lucia rest her head over her heart.  “It’s alright, my sweet girl.”

“S-she’s so _mean_.  And she’s always saying mean things and hitting people and _never_ gets in any trouble.”

Aneira ran a hand up and down her back, letting her young daughter spend her tears until it passed into short hiccups.

The housecarl and Aneira’s strange guest, Serana, had both stayed away from Lucia’s room, giving she and her adoptive mother some privacy behind the closed door.  Lydia had noticed her tears and scraped hands almost as soon as Lucia had returned home and had tended to her carefully with a handkerchief and warm water.  But shortly after dinner when Lucia had retired to her room, Aneira had followed.

The Dragonborn pressed a kiss onto the top of Lucia’s head, as she often did whenever the young Imperial was upset.

“I don’t wanna play with her anymore,” Lucia said pitifully, wiping her nose on her handkerchief.

“Then you don’t have to,” Aneira assured her, letting them both lean back against the wall next to the bed.  “But I would like you to tell me what happened.  You didn’t seem upset when I saw you this afternoon.”

“No,” Lucia mumbled, wiping a sleeve across her eyes.  After the full dinner of venison and vegetables and her crying fit, the young girl felt exhausted.  “It was after.  We were looking for Mila when Braith started calling me names.  And then-” Lucia sniffed, whining as the tears threatened to flow again.  “Then she pushed me over.  My hands and knees hurt, and my skirt got all dirty.”

Her guardian’s arm tightened around her shoulders, fingers squeezing Lucia close to her side.  “Are you alright?”

“Yes, Mama.” Lucia tucked her face against Aneira’s shoulder.  There was a pause as Aneira took a breath, her chest moving Lucia slightly up then down.

“You know I don’t approve of you fighting with anyone, right?”

Lucia blinked in surprise.  “Yes, Mama.”  She stuck her lip out, pouting a little.  “I wouldn’t start any fights.  I’m not like Braith.”

“I-I know that,” Aneira replied slowly, letting her fingers move on Lucia’s arm.  “But, if Braith ever lays a hand on you again, or _anyone_ , for that matter,” Aneira turned so her head was angled down toward her daughter, and Lucia looked up to meet her eyes, “you have every right to defend yourself.  Do you understand that?”

Now the little girl was confused again.  “I thought hitting was bad,” she said uncertainly. “Mama told me not to hit people just because I'm upset with them.”

“That's right,” Aneira agreed.  “But when someone hits you first, you don’t have to stand there and take it.  If it’s a grownup, I want you to run away,” her guardian leaned forward, “as _fast as you can_.  But if it’s someone like Braith, or one of the other children, I want you to know that you can defend yourself.  If they are hurting you, you have a right to try to make them stop.”

Lucia fiddled with the hem of her shirts, nailing scratching at the fabric.  “I’m not sure I can, Aneira.  All I did today was cry. Just like Braith said.”

“Well, from what you told me, Braith seems like the type of girl who will do it again now that she’s done it once.”  Aneira tilted her head.  “If she or anyone else tries to strike you, I just want you to remember you’re allowed to fight back until they leave you be.”

Lucia nodded, unsure and tired, and Aneira sighed.

“Is there something else bothering you, Lucia?” The little girl bit her lips, small fingers worrying at her skirt.  “You know there is nothing you cannot talk to me about.”

“It’s,” she sniffed once, hating the burning in her eyes, “it was something Braith said.  She called you my fake mama.”

Aneira breathed deeply, and Lucia swallowed while she waited.

“You know,” her adoptive mother began slowly, “sometimes people will say things to you that are cruel.”  Aneira’s hand moved up and down Lucia’s right arm.  “It won’t make sense to you, and most of the time arguing or fighting with them won’t do you any good.  Cruelty is not logical.”  The Dragonborn paused.  “Just because someone said it, doesn’t make it true. And it’s _okay_ ,” Aneira punctuated that statement with a playful jostle of Lucia’s shoulder, “to be upset by it.”

Lucia took a moment to think about that, trying as she often did to emulate her beautiful guardian and think through all her decisions.  One thing Aneira had said stood out.

“Isn’t it true, though?” Lucia mumbled against Aneira’s dinner dress, wishing she could hide her face more in the green fabric.  “You’re not my _real_ mama?  My mama died.”

Aneira inhaled a little shakily.

“I am not you first mother,” she said gently, moving away from the wall so that she faced Lucia head on.  “I did not carry you in my belly.”  Lucia squeaked in surprise when Aneira gave her stomach a quick tickle, smiling past her tears.  “That does _not_ mean that I don’t love you as my daughter.  It doesn’t mean your Mama wasn’t real, or that you should forget about her, either.”  Aneira paused again.  “Do you remember that paper I showed you when you came to live with me?  Jarl Balgruuf had signed it.”

“Uh huh,” Lucia agreed, wiping at her cheeks one more time.  The tears seemed to have finally stopped.  “It said I was your ‘heir.’”

“Aye, it did say that,” Aneira ruffled the Imperial girl’s dark hair.  “But it also said you were to be my daughter from that day on.”  She cupped Lucia’s left cheek, giving her face a little pinch.  “And so you are.  That makes me your real mother.  So, you’ve had two mothers in your life. And _neither_ of us is ‘fake.’”  Aneira rubbed her thumb across the apple of Lucia’s cheek.  “Does that make sense?”

Lucia nodded sleepily, reaching up to hold Aneira’s hand between her fingers.  “I think so.”

“Good,” the Dragonborn said primly, giving Lucia another kiss on the forehead.  “Now go to sleep.  It’ll all look better in the morning.”

* * *

 

_“Do-do you ever like to read?”_

_Lars was usually quiet, even after they became friends.  He only liked to speak when asked a question, and it left some of their conversations a little one-sided.  Lucia or Mila usually suggested a game, and Lars would go along with it._

_But really, Lars didn’t need words to let his friends know what he was feeling.  His red-blonde hair was always combed away from his face, and it left his wide blue eyes open for the world to see when he was sad or afraid.  Lars’s was usually one or the other when his father or Braith were around._

_Aneira said he was someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, and it meant he didn’t try to hide things from people.  Lucia had asked if that was a good thing, and Aneira had smiled in that way she often did._

_Apparently, her quiet new friend liked her after a few days spent playing tag or hide and seek around the city; enough that he asked that question one day at lunch._

_“Of course,” Lucia said brightly, ripping off a piece of her horker jerky. Aneira liked to bring home the meat for her now, ever since Lucia had admitted it was her new favorite. “Aneira reads with me every night she comes home. And she brings me paper to practice my letters.”_

_It hadn’t surprised her that Lars enjoyed reading as well.  What was surprising was the way the young Nord’s face had lit up when Lucia said she read every day.  The boy had looked so happy Lucia thought he was going to cry._

_“You have to come over to my house!  My grandmother sometimes brings me back books from the market.  They have really beautiful pictures!  And even stories from other places, like High Rock and Hammerfell.”  Lars’s eyes were lit up in a way Lucia hadn’t seen much before._

_She asked which book Lars’s favorite was, and he’d hurried to finish his chicken so that they could go to his room and he could show her._

_But, the boy added quickly, Lucia couldn't tell Braith about it._

_“She’ll just laugh and make fun of us.  One time she even knocked my book into the water at the Gildergreen.”_

_Lucia promised to keep it between them, even if she still couldn’t understand why Braith could do such mean things and still be invited out to play._

* * *

 

Lars had buried his face against his knees, wetting his trousers as he cried.

Lucia felt her eyes prickle as she looked at him, sitting on the bed with her hand against his shoulders.

“Lars, don’t cry.  It’s okay.”

“It’s _not_ okay!” Lars yelled, lifting his head up only to turn it toward the wall away from his newest friend.  “It’s not _fair_!”  He sniffled heavily.  “Sh-she hits me all the time and then _I_ get in trouble with my father for being a milk-drinker.  Why doesn’t _she_ ever get in trouble?”

Lucia thought it was probably because no one ever actually told Amren or Saffir that Braith kept making Lars give her money or do whatever else she said.  Braith had even said once that if Lars tried to tell on her, her parents wouldn’t believe him.

Frowning, Lucia wondered if now was the time to bring up Aneira’s advice from the other day.  They hadn’t had the chance to talk about how to defend yourself with honor, even if Lydia had explained to Lucia that to the Nords, one blow deserves another.  Aneira had recommended trying to talk to Braith first, to see if telling her to stop would be enough.  The young girl planned to ask Aneira more about it when she was back from fighting vampires.  She could talk to Aela, but their lesson wasn’t until tomorrow.

“I don’t know,” Lucia said quietly, rubbing her palm against the weeping boy’s back.  “I’m sorry.”

Reaching into her pocket, Lucia brought her handkerchief to Lars’s cheeks, wiping carefully until he turned obediently and let her clean his face.

“Even my mother takes his side,” the Nord mumbled, letting fresh tears trail leak out and hastily clearing them.  “She’s always disappointed in me because I can’t fight back.  And Mila always says I’m her best friend but she still lets Braith play with us.”

Lucia’s lips quirked to the side in sadness, and she moved her feet to the floor to stand up against the side of the bed.

“Do you want to go to Breezehome with me?” It was a flimsy offer at best, but staying in the Battle-Born house didn’t seem like a good idea anyway.  Lars spent too much time cooped up in his room.  “We can spread out a blanket and read in the grass behind the house.”  Her friend looked at her, eyes still puffy and red.  “Aneira gave me a new book a few days ago,” Lucia added.  “It’s a recipe book. She said it was written by a really famous chef.”  The Imperial girl nudged Lars’s knee with her hand.  “You could make some of the recipes with your Grandmother.”

Lars sniffed one more time, using Lucia’s offered handkerchief to clean his nose.

“Okay,” he nodded, uncurling from his position and wiping the cuff of his sleeve against his cheeks.

Unfortunately, the two children did not get far from the mansion.

“Hey, Battle-Born!”

Lucia’s hair whipped around her neck as she spun around, watching Braith stride toward them with a scowl.  Lars stiffened beside her, groaning lightly under his breath as the other girl stopped in front of him.

“Finally done crying, milk-drinker? Gimme your money.”

“No.” Lars clasped his hands over his stomach, fingernails biting into his skin.  “I gave you gold yesterday.  I’m not giving you more today.”

Braith laughed unkindly.  “I don’t care.  I want another two gold before dinner, or I’m gonna punch you.”

Lars’s face started to flush as he backed away, thumb digging into the meat of his palm.

“Braith,” Lucia said, a nervous quiver in her stomach as she pushed the words out.

The other girl didn’t look at her, still trying to loom over Lars even though the Nord boy was taller.  Her hands were clenched at the end of her straight arms.

“Braith, leave him alone.”

Now the Redguard turned her head around, lip curled up in an ugly sneer as Lucia took a step closer.

“What’d you say?” Braith turned away from Lars, leaving the pale boy glancing quickly between the two of them.

“ _Stop_ it, Braith.” Lucia answered, taking another step until she was standing next to Lars.  Their shoulders touched slightly.  “You’re being mean.”

Braith scoffed, laughing as she came up to the Imperial girl again.  “I’m being _mean_? What’s it to _you_ , you little baby? I can do whatever I want!”  The older girl’s arms came up, palms out, and Lucia braced her legs against the cobbled road without thinking about it.

The Redguard’s hands shoved against her shoulders, making her bend her back but not enough to take Lucia off her feet.  Her own arms came up to smack Braith’s hands away, sending them to the side while Lucia righted her balance.

Watching Lars flinch back in the corner of her eye, Lucia pressed her lips into a thin line before speaking.  “No, you can’t.  And-and you can’t play with us anymore unless you stop it.”

Braith’s mouth was open, lower lip curling over her bottom teeth in indignation.  She’d stumbled herself from the force of Lucia’s block, and her eyes had darkened.

“You’d better go away, _orphan_ , or I’ll punch you, too.”

Now Lucia’s face changed, flushing red with anger.  “I’m not an _orphan_ , I _have_ a mother.  And we’re going to my house now, and you are _not_ invited.  You’re just a big bully!”  Lucia reached down, letting her left-hand wrap around Lars’s wrist as she started to tug him away.  “And we’re not giving you any gold, either!”

Marching away toward the steps near the gate, Lucia turned to look Lars in the face.  Her Nord friend was still red in the face, methodically chewing on his lip as they walked down the stairs.  Lucia used her free hand to push her hair out of her face as the wind from the plains whipped past them for a moment.  She and Lars thumped down the stairs hurriedly, still gripping his wrist until they reach the road.  Lucia looks back up the stairs, watching to see if Braith would follow them.

She didn’t, so Lucia smiled and brought her shaken friend inside Breezehome for applesauce and her new book.

“You’re-” Lars began nervously once they were back outside on a blanket, still looking around anxiously at the road.  “You don’t think she’s going to come bother us again?”

Lucia sighed, sliding over to sit next to him with the book spread across their laps.

“If she does, I’ll tell her the same thing. That she can’t play with us until she’s nice.  So don’t worry,” Lucia passed Lars his bowl of sweet yellow dessert with a smile.  “I’ll defend both of us.”


End file.
